


Black Holes and Starlight

by cassbuttandsquirrel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Episode: s14e10 Coda, Episode: s14e10 Nihilism, Hope, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Pre-Relationship, nothing happens they just talk about it, rated teen for mentions of suicide, tw: talk about suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 02:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17520344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassbuttandsquirrel/pseuds/cassbuttandsquirrel
Summary: [Set immediately after 14x10]The cover of the book is so dark, Dean feels as if he could fall right into it. Trapped within those fragile edges there was a black hole: unexpected, inexplicable, yet ready to tear everything apart. Dean wonders idly if it would swallow up the entire bunker if it was opened again. Consume his family and his home from the inside out, leaving nothing behind but dry grass waving in the Kansas wind.





	Black Holes and Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this oneshot this morning because I desperately wanted to get it out.  
> Un-Beta'd: All mistakes are mine!

The cover of the book is so dark, Dean feels as if he could fall right into it. Trapped within those fragile edges there was a black hole: unexpected, inexplicable, yet ready to tear everything apart. Dean wonders idly if it would swallow up the entire bunker if it was opened again. Consume his family and his home from the inside out, leaving nothing behind but dry grass waving in the Kansas wind.

There had been times in Dean’s life when he felt like that same vacuous void, whose mere existence could only destroy, wandering through the universe helplessly reducing stars to dust and emptiness. The very touch of him corrupts. But somewhere in the past, sometime after Jack arrived and Cas came back from the dead (again) Dean had forgotten what that felt like. Somehow it had disappeared, whisked away on the wind of Cas in a cowboy hat, and Sam singing along to the radio with Mary in the backseat, and quiet fishing trips with Jack. The feeling had tried to resurface when Jack died, but Cas was still there and Cas had _hope_ and when was the last time a Winchester really died anyways?

Now, looking down at the book in his hands, deceptively light for all its heaviness, Dean can feel the supernova breaking apart in his chest. Suddenly he’s desperate to get rid of the book and he shoves it with shaking hands under his mattress. He drops onto the foot of the bed, sliding his hands through his hair and rests his elbows on his knees, trying to calm his pounding heart.

There’s a knock at the door and Dean grunts in acknowledgement as Cas slips in. Dean resolutely keeps his head down, unwilling to answer the question waiting in the angel’s eyes. If he wasn’t so exhausted he’d give Cas a gruff “I’m fine”, but instead when he opens his mouth all that comes out is:

“Just sit down, Cas.”

The floorboards creak and the mattress dips unexpectedly as Cas takes the empty space beside him, knees wide and hands clasped between them. Dean was pretty sure he had meant for Castiel to sit in the sturdy armchair by the door, but as the heat from Cas’s body seeps into his left side, Dean finds himself unable to protest. He lifts his head from his hands to mirror Cas’s position, pressing their knees together as he shifts. They don’t look at each other - both focus somewhere in the middle distance and Dean is eternally grateful. Dean knows he should convince the angel that everything Michael said was false and that nothing about their friendship was born of compulsion. Billie’s visit weighs on him, and bits of stardust slowly wink out of existence. Instead of reassurance, Dean asks a question.

“Did you ever want to kill him?” Dean can almost feel the frown on his friend’s face as he decodes the question. He picks at a blister on his palm, waiting for the answer.

“Yes.” Castiel’s answer is sure after a few beats of silence.

Dean straightens, gripping his knees with his hands. “Good.” He chews his lip for a moment before adding: “Me too.”

Cas turns his head towards him now, the blue of his eyes always surprising to Dean though the calculating look is all too familiar. Dean obstinately keeps his eyes on the middle distance, refusing to look at Cas lest he give too much away.

“I killed myself.” the angel’s voice is cautious, “in the other world.” Dean sneaks a glance and Cas is facing forward again. “I found myself and killed him.”

Dean wants to say “That wasn’t you” or “You’re not the same”. Instead what comes out is:

“How did it feel?”

“At the time I thought it would feel good.” Dean gives up any pretense and watches his friend choose his words carefully. “Then it didn’t.” His thumbs press together and Dean follows the movement. “Nevertheless, I know I made the right choice.”

A weight drops heavy into Dean’s stomach and he struggles against it.

“That wasn’t you.” he knows the rebuttal is weak and regrets it when Cas whips his head around to meet his eyes. It isn’t anger he sees there but something softer. Soft yet strong and Dean is relieved it’s not pity.

“You know that it was.” is all Cas says, keeping his gaze steady. “But,” his hands untangle themselves and he drops the left firmly over Dean’s, both pressing into the denim, and Dean gets the feeling that if he looked away now, Cas might just smite him, “it was me without you. Me without Sam and Bobby and Jack and Mary. Me without my family.” Dean feels the pressure in his chest lighten but it’s replaced by another sensation and he realises that he is dangerously close to crying. His face warms where Cas has gripped it, only the pressure of his fingertips belying his desperation. “Me. Without. You.”

Now it's too late and the tears come silently, streaming hot and salty down his cheeks.

“Cas, I -” is all he manages to get out before his lips are quivering too hard to speak so he lets Cas guide his head down and tuck him against his crisp white collar. Dean’s own hands betray him and they wind themselves into the warm fabric of Castiel’s shirt as he lets go.

When he finally pulls away, he does so only slightly just so he can look at Cas again, but his fingers stay knotted at the angel’s sides.

“We’ll find another way.” the amount of faith in those clear blue eyes staggers Dean.

“How did you know?” His voice is rough and dry.

“You’re not so unreadable as you think you are, Dean Winchester.”

He doesn’t want to move but he nudges his friend as he stands.

“Get up for a sec.” he holds out his hand as if Cas needs help standing from the bed and Cas takes it.

Not letting go, Dean moves to pull the book from it’s hiding spot and hands it over wordlessly. He doesn’t need to read over Castiel’s shoulder to know what it says.

_Dean Winchester stabs himself with the blade of Michael, ending the life of the archangel and his own at the age of 40._

“What do the others say?” the angel’s voice is deceptively calm.

“That Mike breaks out of the freezer and destroys the world.”

Cas frowns and the book catches fire, turning to ash before Dean has time to swear. He shakes the gritty powder from his hand and grasps Dean’s other hand with his smudged palm. It’s surprisingly cool to the touch.

“We’re not accepting any more gifts from Billie.”

Dean thinks he feels the birth of something small and sparkling behind his sternum and he smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!  
> Kudos and comments are appreciated <3


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